Deathbell
by LoZfan86
Summary: From the moment he set foot in their sanctuary, she had a feeling things were about to change. Forever. Cicero/OC. OC is the Listener but she is not the Dragonborn.


**A/N: So yeah...I started playing Skyrim a few months back. Didn't really realize how much it would take over my life lol. Before you ask, no, I have not worked on Tides of Radiance in a very long time (probably like 2 years). Will it ever be finished? Maybe, I honestly can't say for certain. I ran out of steam on that one a long time ago and it's going to take a significant amount of effort to get that motivation back (I've also gone back and re-read it a few times and holy crap my writing was ridiculous). Anyway, it may be finished, it may not be. I really don't know at this point.**

 **Anyway, as I said I recently was sucked into the Elder Scrolls fandom and I can't crawl out no matter what I do. While playing Skyrim, I got particularly attached to Cicero (and also Ulfric Stormcloak and Brynjolf but mainly Cicero). I know most people hate him cause well...he's Cicero, but I love him and can't help but feel sorry for the poor fellow. When you think about it, he had a pretty awful experience and it took away his sanity. Sucks. So I wanted to write a story that sort of sheds some light onto what his life might have been like before he went insane, and also afterwards. Basically, from the time Cicero first arrives at the Cheydinhal sanctuary to the events of Skyrim's Dark Brotherhood questline. There is an original character who will be serving as the main character, so if that's not your cup of tea, the door is right over there. Also, this story will only loosely follow the events of the Dark Brotherhood questline, mainly because there were a few characters who DIED HORRIBLY AND I DON'T WANT THAT TO HAPPEN THIS TIME AROUND. AT LEAST NOT TO ALL OF THEM. Thank you.**

 ***sigh* Honestly, I don't like author's notes, but I did feel like I owed an explanation as to why I've been dead for the last couple years. This will be the only one throughout the entire story because all they do is take up time and no one reads them anyway. So. Enjoy I guess? I don't even know what to say anymore lol.**

 **Skyrim is copyright of Bethesda Softworks. I own no characters, concepts, etc.**

* * *

"Mama! I want to help! Please?" I contorted my expression into the best puppy dog face I could muster in an attempt to gain my mother's favor. My small hand reached for the wooden spoon that she was using to stir the large pot of stew. Normally, I had no interest in helping out with cooking of all things. That was always my mother's forte and she handled it better than anyone else in the sanctuary. But today was different. I overheard the grownups talking about how there would be a new arrival to our humble sanctuary in Cheydinhal. A young man, barely sixteen from the sound of it, was making his way here from the Bruma sanctuary. That was all I knew. They wouldn't tell me anything else, no matter how many times I'd asked. I had no idea why he was coming here. I'd been to Bruma a couple of times when I was a little younger. It was a nice place and I couldn't understand why anyone would want to leave it.

"Darling Zhaarya," my mother chided as she gently swatted my hand away. "You will be able to help with the cooking in due time." Her deep, red Bosmeri eyes held a warm look in them. "But I want the stew to be perfect for our supper tonight. It isn't often we have an initiate join us from another sanctuary. I want to make sure he has a nice meal after his long journey," she said, dipping her spoon into the stew and bringing the hot liquid to her mouth. "Mmm, something is missing." Then she looked at me, a smile forming on her lips. "Perhaps you can help me after all, dear daughter."

My face lit up and I began to jump up and down happily. "What can I do?" It wasn't often my mother asked me to help with anything. It was even less often that my father, or anyone else in the sanctuary, asked me to help.

"Go and get me some lavender sprigs near that old tree that's just outside the entrance to the sanctuary. Lavender has been known to add a delightful aftertaste to boar meat stew," my mother instructed.

"Got it!" I gave my mother a quick hug, which she returned with a soft chuckle and a smoothing of my thick, black hair, then was on my way.

This was a very exciting day for me, indeed. There was a new member coming to join our family and I got to help my mother. I could hardly contain myself. I let out a small squeal of delight as I ran through the halls of the sanctuary. As I turned the corner to the room that housed the ladder to the secret entrance, I bumped into someone who I knew better than to upset.

Rasha, a Khajiit and the highest-ranking speaker of our sanctuary, turned his eyes down at me, a look of disdain on his face. "Child, do take care to watch where you are going, will you?"

"Yes, sir," I said, my voice quivering a little. Rasha didn't hate me. He would smile at me occasionally and indulge me with stories about his many kills. However, he also had no problem showing me when I got on his nerves. It didn't happen too often, but when it did, it was scary. He had a way of narrowing the pupils of his eyes so that they became two tiny slits. That was usually my cue to leave and not bother him for the rest of the day.

For the most part, everyone else in the sanctuary seemed to enjoy, or at least tolerated, my presence there. Children in the Dark Brotherhood were not a very common occurrence. I assumed my presence in the Cheydinhal sanctuary was only permitted because my mother and father were among the best assassins they employed. Calixus Salveda, my father, was the most talented mage in all of Cyrodiil, or so he said, anyway. He showed me the spells he could cast, so who was I to deny his claims? My mother, Anya, was a Wood Elf, a native of Valenwood. She met my father by chance one night in Bravil when both of them were trying to eliminate the same target. My mother hadn't been a member of the Brotherhood then. She was just a bar maid who wanted to exact revenge upon her employer. As the story goes, it was my mother who ended up with the kill, and after seeing her prowess with a bow, my father was immediately taken with her. He asked her to come back to Cheydinhal with him and join the Dark Brotherhood, and she accepted. Relationships among Brotherhood assassins weren't common, and my parents were one of the first to break that stigma. When I came along, things changed, of course, but most carried on business as usual. My mother took a short break from taking contracts, and as soon as I was weened, she resumed her duties.

There was always at least one person left at the sanctuary when everyone else was out on a contract or running errands. That was the biggest thing that needed to change with my arrival. Thankfully, most of the assassins didn't mind babysitting me for a while. The only one who really had a problem with it was an Argonian named Haj-Shei. He didn't like children in the slightest. Apparently, I'd left quite the mess for him to clean up once. He was never made to watch me again after that.

Apart from my parents, I became particularly close with a young Breton woman named Andronica. Neither my mother or my father had siblings, so she was like the aunt I never had. She would read to me, fix my hair, and play dolls with me when no one else had the time. I could listen to her regale me with tales of the old Cheydinhal sanctuary all day long.

I climbed the ladder and carefully opened the hatch that led outside. The sun poured into the dark underground hovel, bathing the small room in Cheydinhal's light. The lavender patch my mother referred to was just beside a dying tree that I often played on. I picked a few sprigs then went back down the hatch as quickly as I had come out. I was not really allowed to spend too much time outside of the sanctuary. On the rare occasions I was allowed out, I would see all the other children playing in the streets of Cheydinhal, wishing I could join them. I had no friends my age. The only people I knew were my dark brothers and sisters.

I returned the sprigs to my mother in the kitchen. She smiled at me and dropped a couple of them in the stew. "Now we let that simmer for about an hour," she said. "Why don't you go find Andronica? I hear she just returned from a contract. Maybe she'd like to tell you about it?"

Andronica was Rasha's Silencer, meaning she handled all of the contracts he arranged for her. Speakers themselves didn't take contracts too often, only on special occasions. My father had been recently promoted to Speaker, as well, and fittingly, he chose my mother to be his Silencer. A single sanctuary could have up to four Speakers and four Silencers at a time. The rest were just considered to be assassins, called upon when a member passed away or was killed, or if there was no one else available to execute a contract. The organization as a whole received their orders from one person, the Listener, who communed directly with the Night Mother. The Night Mother told the Listener of all who had performed the Black Sacrament in order to summon her, and the Listener would relay that information to all the sanctuaries across Tamriel. Some sanctuaries received more contracts than others, and this was simply because certain areas of the continent were more populated than others. Since Cyrodiil was, for the most part, a metropolitan province, we received the bulk of the contracts.

Our current listener was a woman named Alisanne Dupre, who made her home in Bravil, near the Night Mother's crypt. I had never met her, but I heard that she was excellent at her job, and quite beautiful, too. A deadly combination for an assassin.

I found Andronica in the shared living space near the entrance to the sanctuary, talking with Garnag, an Orc. I liked Garnag. He had the loudest and deepest laugh I'd ever heard. "Ah, there's our dear littlest sister," Andronica cooed, scooping me into a tight hug. Her brown eyes sparkled. "So, what have you done today?"

"I gathered lavender for Mama!" I exclaimed happily. "She put it in the stew!"

"Oh, that sounds heavenly," Andronica said, returning my enthusiasm. "Garnag and I were just discussing the young man's arrival. Are you excited to meet him?"

"Very much!" I said, grinning widely. "Do you think he'll play with me like you do?"

"Well, I don't know about that. He's a boy, after all. I don't think he would enjoy playing with dolls," Andronica told me. Garnag snickered a bit.

"If he knows what's good for him, he'll play with you," the large Orc said, ruffling my hair. "Run along now. The rest of us need to do a bit of preparing before he gets here."

I did as I was told, heading off to my room to play for a while. I was told the new member would be arriving before nightfall, just in time for supper. I decided I had just enough time to draw him a picture as a welcome gift. Though I was only seven years old, I was no slouch when it came to drawing. My mother expressed that I was well beyond my years in the art. Not sure what he liked, I decided to draw him a deathbell. Everyone liked flowers. It was hard to hate something so beautiful.

* * *

"Cicero, was it?" Rasha asked the young male as the two of them stepped inside the sanctuary. Rasha had met him outside the city and led him to the abandoned house we called home because the boy did not know our password. Apparently Rasha did not trust him to enter the sanctuary alone, which I thought was strange considering we were all part of the same family.

"That is correct," Cicero answered. His voice was much higher pitched than I had thought it would be. It didn't really match his outward appearance. His hair was a deep burgundy, stopping just above his shoulders. His face was small and his jaw was not as angular as a grown man's. His skin was quite fair and there were smudges of dirt all across his face. The Dark Brotherhood attire he wore was dirty as well, and even looked like it had been burned in some places. Wherever he had come from, it hadn't been kind to him.

My mother let go of my hand and approached him. "We are honored to have you with us, Cicero," she said. "Please consider this sanctuary as your home from now on."

The formalities came in waves after that. Each person gave their welcomes, and Cicero acknowledged every one of them, though he seemed uncomfortable. He kept his hands together and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

I was ushered out of the entrance space after a while, told by my father to go play somewhere else. "The grown-ups have to talk for a moment," he said gently. "Go and find something else to do until supper."

I begrudgingly listened, though I wanted to stay and hear Cicero's story. I couldn't help but be very curious, as only a child could be. Being the devious child I sometimes was, however, I hid behind one of the pillars for a moment before returning to my room. Something about Cicero's arrival just didn't quite add up, and I wanted to figure out what it was.

"What of Bruma?" I heard Rasha say in a quieter voice. "Does the sanctuary still stand?"

"No," Cicero replied. "It's gone. Burned to ashes." I held in a gasp. So that's why he came here? The Bruma sanctuary had been destroyed? "As you know, I was the only one who managed to escape."

It was quiet for a moment, then I heard Garnag speak. "Nine of our brothers and sisters, dead. By Sithis, why is this happening?"

"If the Aldmeri Dominion keeps with its march, soon all of us will be wiped out," Andronica said, almost in a whisper. "That's three sanctuaries destroyed now. Who's to say Cheydinhal won't be next?"

"I won't let me family perish in such a manner!" Rasha declared, a little louder than he intended. "I'll sooner kill all those damned elves before I let that happen."

"Rasha, we have nothing against the Dominion," my mother put in. "If they lay siege on Cheydinhal, we are better off surrendering, or at the very least, we should migrate to Skyrim."

"We will not leave here!" Rasha insisted. "The Black Hand will not be seen as a bunch of cowards!"

"The Listener will protect us," an older man named Pontius added after a brief moment of silence.

"The Listener's priority is the Night Mother," my father told him. "As assassins, all of us here are disposable. But if we lose the Night Mother, the Brotherhood will cease to exist."

I scurried off to my room after that, confused and a bit scared. No one had told me what was happening with the other sanctuaries. Perhaps they had thought I was too young to understand. Perhaps they had been trying to protect my innocence. Whatever the case was, I would have to pretend I heard none of it until they saw fit to tell me.

* * *

Supper was a quieter affair that evening, though now I knew why. No one wanted to talk about the destruction of Bruma or the other sanctuaries. No one wanted to talk about the Aldmeri Dominion. With all that was looming overhead, most found it easier and more comforting to eat in silence.

It was Garnag who eventually broke that silence, and he began to barrage poor Cicero with questions. Apparently, the two of them would be sharing a room, so I could only assume he wanted to get to know the boy as much as possible. Cicero answered most of his questions, albeit very pertly and without much elaboration on any of them. Considering he'd just been through a very traumatic event, I couldn't say I blamed him.

Cicero sat across from me at the table, and every so often he would look my way, as if he were unsure about me. I assumed there had been no children at the Bruma sanctuary, which was why he seemed so wary of me.

"How old were you when you joined the Brotherhood, Cicero, if you don't mind me asking?" Andronica asked. Her tone was gentler than Garnag's, something she used to her advantage quite often.

Cicero swallowed a bite of stew before answering her. "Thirteen," he replied. "I was on my own before then."

"So you don't have a mom and dad?" I piped up. My mother smacked my arm.

"Zhaarya, manners!" she hissed quietly.

Cicero put his hand up. "It's fine, I don't mind answering," he assured her. "I never knew them. It's hard to miss something you never had."

"Poor dear," my mother said quietly, looking down at the floor.

"Really, it's fine," Cicero insisted. "I don't want any of you here to pity me."

Garnag cleared his throat. "Cicero, if you're finished, I'll show you to your room." Cicero nodded, then excused himself and disappeared down the hall with Garnag.

* * *

Cicero was a mystery that I just could not seem to figure out. He was quiet and kept to himself most of the time, not giving me a lot of opportunities to speak to him. I found this annoying, because I really wanted to get to know him. It had also been a couple of weeks since his arrival and I still hadn't had the chance to give him my drawing. It was a small sanctuary. How could he be so elusive?

At last, one night I caught him sitting in the common area just before I was sent to bed. It was a rare sight, because he usually holed himself up in his and Garnag's room. With the piece of parchment held behind my back, I approached him silently so I wouldn't scare him off. He had a habit of disappearing whenever he sensed someone was near. I snuck up behind the chair he was sitting in, and without much hesitation, I tapped him on the shoulder. He let out a small noise of surprise and I could feel his body tensing up. Before I knew it, he whirled around and faced me, nearly knocking the chair over in the process.

"Oh, it's only you," he said while exhaling a deep breath. "You'll have to forgive me, I…I don't do well with surprises.

Sithis, he was like a scared animal. "I didn't mean to scare you," I apologized.

Cicero raised his eyebrow at me and pulled his mouth to one side. It made him look funny and I almost laughed. "Did I say I was scared? No, I said I was surprised," he said, putting great emphasis on the last word. "There is a big difference between those things, you know."

"Uh huh," I said condescendingly, quirking my brow right back at him. "Anyway, I've been wanting to give you this for a long time. It's your 'welcome to the Cheydinhal sanctuary' present!" I held out the drawing for him to examine. He took it from my hands very carefully.

"Wow," he said after a moment. "This is…quite good." Then he looked at me inquisitively. "How old did you say you were?"

"Seven," I answered proudly, throwing my shoulders back. "Mama says I've got a real talent."

Cicero whistled out of amazement, still grazing over the picture. "Yeah, I'd say you do, too." His eyebrows knitted themselves together. "But I'm curious. Why a deathbell?"

"My mama says they're the perfect flower to en...enscaspulate the Night Mother's beauty," I explained, stumbling over the big word I had learned just a short time ago.

Cicero chuckled at my poor pronunciation. "You mean 'encapsulate?'"

"That's probably it," I admitted, looking down at the floor. Sithis, I may have been good at drawing, but I sure wasn't good with words. Much to my surprise, I felt a hand on my hand and the sensation of my hair being ruffled. Cicero's touch was awkward, but it didn't feel strange.

"Well, I thank you for this. It's a very good drawing. In fact, I think it's likely the best I've ever seen." I couldn't tell if he was sincere about what he was saying or if he was just trying to make me feel good. Either way, my ears swelled to hear his words.

"You're welcome," I said, smiling up at him. "I hope you can be happy here and call us your new family."

"I hope so too," he replied. He was no longer looking at me, but rather off in the distance. After a moment, he turned his eyes back to me. "I'm sorry, but I'm forgetting your name."

"Zhaarya," I answered. "Mama gave it to me. She said she wanted me to have a Bosmer name."

Cicero hummed quietly. "That's a tough one. Mind if I give you a nickname?"

I'd never had a nickname before, and the thought of finally having one excited me. "Sure, I don't mind!"

Cicero looked around the room briefly, seemingly trying to draw inspiration from something. Then he remembered the picture in his hands and held it up so it was level with my face. "I'm thinking you kind of look like a deathbell," he said.

And that was where it all began.


End file.
